


My Angel. My Demon.

by Witchergirl98



Category: The Witcher
Genre: Angel jaskier, Angel to DEMON, Caring Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Demon Jaskier | Dandelion, First Kiss, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Non-Human Jaskier | Dandelion, first breath
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-16
Updated: 2020-06-16
Packaged: 2021-03-04 00:47:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,027
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24744841
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Witchergirl98/pseuds/Witchergirl98
Summary: Jaskier wasn’t supposed to fall for him.But he did.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 6
Kudos: 77





	My Angel. My Demon.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoy it! 😊

Jaskier was an angel, an angel meant to guide a chosen person. His wings were as white as freshly fallen snow. His halo a golden ring burning hot floating above his brown locks. His eyes a bright blue, as blue as the sky and waters of the ocean. His skin a rich caramel color and free of any blemish. Angels skin is cold to the touch and their hearts never once beat. They are only mean to guide for falling for your chosen person was a bad thing. You would face the consequences for that particular offense. 

Jaskier fell hard. 

~~

His chosen person was a man-a witcher-by the name of Geralt. Looking at the man he could see the long tied back silver locks, his pale skin and golden eyes. How the man looked rugged and battle-worn. Their first meeting had started off rocky with the man brandishing the silver sword at him. “Who are you? What are you and why are you following me?,” seems he got the all-business type of person. “I am Jaskier. I am to be your guiding angel,” the man gave him a skeptical look and raised brow in response sheathing the sword. 

Jaskier settles himself down on the other side of the fire. He took his time looking over his chosen person. The man wore black worn hard-leather armor. Two swords resting beside him and a medallion laying against his chest in the shape of a wolf. There wasn’t even an ounce of emotion to the mans face. Yep, he was going to guide an all-business type of person, and for a long time too-having learned witchers are long lived.

From then on traveling with Geralt was interesting to say the least. Watching as the man threw himself at monsters when someone approached him about one. Taking coin and moving on to the next town he was guided to. Having hateful words whispered or outright yelled at him. Things being thrown or getting chased from the towns.

There was one particular hunt that had Jaskier worried. Geralt had gone out to hunt a fiend that terrorized a small town. The fiend was a massive beast with antlers as long as his own wings and three eyes atop its head. Claws and teeth sharp enough to bite through even the strongest of armor. It’s height was comparable to that of a giant.

Geralt had been moving with an elegant grace weaving around its attacks and delivering his own. That is until the beasts eyes turned red and looked straight into Geralt’s freezing the man in place. He saw the fiend lunge at the frozen Witcher, a barely noticeable flutter in his chest spooked him enough to act, “Geralt!,” he spread his wings out taking off in a fast swoop shoving Geralt out of harms way, but not fast enough as a deep gash was cut into the Witcher’s side. He hauled himself and the man up keeping an eye of the beast. “Geralt you need to be more careful!”

The pain was enough to bring Geralt back to his senses, ignoring Jaskier’s admonishments, and strike down the fiend with a swift and precise cut to its jugular felling it. Jaskier rushed to his side when he saw him collapse and helped him tend to his wounds, “you foolish witcher why can’t you just not get hurt.” The fluttering was back in his chest and he tried to shove it down focusing on helping his chosen person, “it’s my job to kill them Jaskier.” Sometimes he just wanted to slap the man and yell at him, tell him his life was more then just killing monsters, but he couldn’t cause even he knew that Geralt couldn’t leave the Path. The wound wasn’t too deep and already healing, but it was deep enough that it would need wrapped up. Jaskier quickly went to grab the bandages and bound the gashes tightly, tying it off and setting back to check it over, nodding as it would hold. Wounds tended to they went back to their camp to rest before heading on to the next town.

This pattern continued and each time Jaskier felt that fluttering in his chest. Each day it grew and each time it happened Jaskier grew more and more fearful. He knew what this feeling was yet it was also foreign to him, but he knew if this continued it would change him forever. He tried to distance himself bring the cold of his body back and stop the fluttering, but each time Geralt looked at him, each time he looked at the ruggedly handsome man he just couldn’t fight it. He just kept falling for his chosen.

He was royally screwed.

Geralt had noticed-a little at first-how Jaskier was starting to act strange. The angel had been cold and blunt when they first met guiding him to the towns that needed him most. But now he was being nicer and caring for him more. It all seemed to start from that one hunt with the fiend. He could see how Jaskier was flushing slightly everytime he caught his eye, the cold touches going warm whenever his wounds were tended to. Most of all he could hear heart beats coming from his chest when there wasn’t one before. 

Didn’t he say angels don’t have beating hearts? 

The more Geralt watched him the more he could see the little changes happening. The halo above him once being smooth and golden and bright was now dimming, cracks running through it and more appearing each day. The pristine white feathers were taking on black hues, first it was only the edges of the feathers, but now it was splotched around making his wings look spotted. Each change had him worrying more for his angel. Geralt wouldn’t admit it aloud-only to himself-he had started to grow fond of his guiding angel. 

Geralt couldn’t tell when he fell for Jaskier but he had. He made sure his pace was slowed when he could see him slow down and looking in pain. Made sure to he got hurt less on his hunts to not worry the angel. What was happening to him? Why wasn’t he saying anything to him? 

Jaskier could feel himself falling further and further for his chosen person. He could tell Geralt was catching on with the glances at his visible changes, but he said nothing about it. He could tell the Witcher was worried from the barely noticeable look in his cat-like eyes, how Geralt would slow down for him if a pang of pain hit him. Jaskier knew fighting it wouldn’t help him so he just waited for the inevitable day he would fall completely. Each day and night the pain grew worse, slowed them both down till he just couldn’t move anymore. 

~~

At the first loud moan of pain Geralt was at his side checking him over, “Jaskier what’s going on? Why are you getting hurt?,” he could feel the worry churning deep in his gut for his angel, “we aren’t meant to feel for our chosen person Geralt. If we do we no longer remain angels.” A crack loudly resounded around the empty silence the halo above Jaskier breaking drawing a pained groan from the angel. “What can I do Jaskier,” he placed his hands gently on his angels arms, “there’s nothing you can do.” The words were grit out followed by a loud groan then a wail as the halo broke in half and started to bury itself into Jaskier’s head, twisting and turning into the shape of horns. His wings looked like black oil was being poured down them, changing from white to black rapidly. 

Geralt could hear the beats in jaskiers chest. They were soft at first but grew louder and stronger as the horns further changed curling back like a rams and turned as black as the wings. The heat that once came from the halo now radiated off Jaskier’s body. The nails on his hands and feet grew longer and pointed, his canines growing sharper and slightly longer. Another pained wail left Jaskier as his bones popped and shifted in his lower back, his spine stretching and growing to form a tail. His eyes stayed the usual blue but his pupils became slitted like Geralt’s. The changes had happened in the span of a few minutes.

Jaskier felt like his lungs were burning, like he was being choked. He scratched and clawed at his own throat as the feeling grew worse, angry red marks left behind by his claws. Why was he choking? Why did his lungs burn like this? He was confused and scared and he knew if he didn’t fix this he was going to die.

“Jaskier you need to breathe!,” Geralt grabbed Jaskier’s hands holding them tightly away from his throat seeing the marks starting to bleed as Jaskier grew more red in the face. “I-i...dont....k-k-know.....how!,” the choked response sent Geralt into action pulling Jaskier close to him. Cupping the back of his neck Geralt pulled him close and kissed Jaskier sending his own breath into his lungs. He held the kiss as he felt Jaskier take an involuntary gasp sending the air down his lungs. He pulled back allowing him to huff the air back out.

Jaskier could feel the air enter and leave his lungs from the kiss relieving some of the burning. “Repeat exactly what happened and don’t stop doing it,” he did as asked gasping in air and huffing it out, each time taking away the burning pain more. He nearly stopped as Geralt presses his forehead against his own, but from a look he continued on. Jaskier could feel himself getting better with each breath entering and leaving him his breathing slowly matching Geralt’s own. No wonder angels were afraid of falling, this was terrifying to go through and he would have died if not for his chosen person. 

“I can no longer be an angel....I can’t even go back. I’m now a fallen. A demon,” tears slipped from his eyes at the thought of his fellow angels now hating him. He could practically hear his mentors cursing out his name for his stupidity. He should have stopped himself. Shouldn’t have let it spiral further down to this point. But he can’t find it in himself to say he’d not do it again to keep his chosen safe, he’d fall for him all over again just to see him live. 

Geralt cupped Jaskier’s face with both his hands, “it doesn’t matter that your not an angel anymore. Your still my angel and now your also my demon.” he smoothed his thumbs over his now guiding demon’s cheeks wiping away the tears. Jaskier leaned into the touch his breathing matching that of Geralt’s, “you’ll still have me around?” How could this man still want him around? He wasn’t his guiding angel anymore he was just a demon. “Yes Jaskier I’m still keeping you. It doesn’t matter that your a demon now,” Geralt presses his lips against his softly. Jaskier’s eyes widen at that before he closes his eyes, melting into the kiss rolling his lips against Geralt’s own surprisingly soft ones. 

Geralt pulled back to allow Jaskier to continue to breathe helping him along. He rubbed his hand along the back of his neck holding Jaskier close. Jaskier looked into his eyes seeing the unsaid emotions, the years of fondness he had for him. “I love you,” he froze as soon as the words left his mouth seeing Geralt’s own widen slightly in response, he was about to pull away his breathing going uneven from losing focus. Geralt quickly pulled him back against him shushing him calming his breathing back to normal. Geralt held him firm in place rubbing soothing circles into his now warm skin keeping their foreheads together. He still worried Geralt was going to leave him for that slip up feeling it might’ve been too soon to say that, but he was proven wrong when he heard the whispered words from his chosen person.

“I love you too, My angel. My demon.”

**Author's Note:**

> Helpful tips and no hateful comments please!


End file.
